


In Circles

by ShaneShenanigans



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, mentions of murder and death, mentions of rape/non-con but no depictions, mentions of sexual/physical/emotional abuse, trans man/cis man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 08:01:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4996927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShaneShenanigans/pseuds/ShaneShenanigans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The goal was to tread lightly, to not get in too deep, and most importantly, don't let anyone in. Jason is a transgender transfer student just trying to make it through his last years of high school with as few bruises as possible. Shane is making it hard on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tip of the Iceberg

**Author's Note:**

> SO! Things. Information. Warnings and such.
> 
> First of all, if this sounds familiar to you, it is. I've written this story dozens of times in dozens of different ways since I was eleven years old. These are my oldest OC's and somehow they have managed to survive the storm that was my (still trekking) journey to adulthood.
> 
> Be that as it may, there are some aspects of the story that I would these days consider unappealing that I have a hard time fixing. So there are some important warnings I'd like to point out.
> 
> First of all, the big bomb, none of the main characters are women, and I know that's a damn shame. There are four— maybe five characters with strong focuses and none of them are women. I have since littered the story with what I've tried to make into in-depth and likable female side-characters but they are only side characters.
> 
> Second, the story itself takes a really far-fetched turn around chapter… I think five? The general storyline stays the same but there's something in the background that comes forward and starts to play a major part. It throws people off and in all honesty I know it's bad (and I try to work it in as smoothly as I can), but this story is a part of my childhood, and a major piece of what got me through some of the worst years of my life. I can't bring myself to remove that aspect.
> 
> Basically, read at your own risk. All in all this is the attempted fixed-up of the work of an eleven-year-old. I've tossed most of the really questionable things and it should be generally safe, though. I'm not asking for you to accept all of my shortcomings and by all means— criticize, I'm just letting you know that at very least the two above, I am aware of.
> 
> To reiterate something I always say— I encourage criticism and take it well when it comes to writing. This includes criticism of both the writing itself and what is being written.
> 
> Lastly, just as a side note, I'm a trans guy. And, Jason is admittedly a little bit like me, or at least in the way that I see myself— though he has his own qualities as well. I just want to put fourth beforehand that I do not use him being trans as a source of angst and this is ultimately a fluffy, happy love story. Always has been, always will be. There is angst involved, however.
> 
> I know those warnings look terrifying and while they are taken seriously, I promise this is a positive love story. Also let it be known that this is a very long love story, very slow burn.
> 
> Also, Shane, the other main character, is a little… I don't know, let's just say he's extremely problematic and I had a hard time ripping myself away from that. I've become attached to his flaws. All the characters have their shortcomings but Shane is an actual idiot/asshole. He does grow from it and change, though. Disclaimer, him being an idiot/asshole does not have to do with Jason being trans though. He's not an idiot/asshole about that, because this is a happy story for me and I am sensitive to that.
> 
> In reality honestly everyone is a big fucking sweetie trying to do the right thing, or that's the intention anyway.
> 
> ANYWAY. If you can't tell, I'm pretty insecure about this because it's old and full of my old brain but I still find this certain charm to it. But please, be critical regardless.
> 
> Also, most importantly, PLEASE let me know if there are any other warnings I should tag for this. I'm really uncertain about those sorts of things.
> 
> Without further babbling, introducing my trash nerds:

He went to get away, and because he was invited. He may have folded the invitation six times and then ripped it into pieces and flushed them down the toilet, but in the end, he went.

When your sister and her boyfriend are screaming and throwing blunt silverware and glass dishes at each other, and you have a massive count of absolutely zero friends in the area, or, as it happens, in general… where else can you go?

So there he was, alone, leaning against a wall with a cup of Coca-Cola, which was only there to be mixed with the rum. He drank his coke straight because he was a badass.

There was a girl, the same one who had smiled and handed him the invitation after school that day. She was sitting across the room at a bar-esque counter. It was tastefully placed behind a window, from which you could see the pool and all the idiots who thought it would be okay to go swimming in October. She wasn't watching them, though, she was talking to another girl sitting next to her, and she kept looking at him between words.

It seemed sometimes she looked just to meet his eyes and smile, and other times as if she was just checking to make sure he was still there.

He wondered if eventually, she'd come talk to him. He wondered if she would ask him on a date, or more likely, if he wanted to 'hang out' sometime. After all, she'd invited him before she knew his name. He'd have to turn it down, of course, but he still wondered.

He met her eyes once again, and a smile quirked at the edges of her lips, before her friend's hand landed on her shoulder and her attention was drawn away.

A few feet away from where he stood there were two people making out against a wall. People being the word of choice, because, while he was pretty sure they were both men, the one with the darker hair could have been a woman. She had a masculine jaw, and arms, but he wasn't one to judge based on gendered features. Though he hadn't seen many guys with smooth bronze skin that glowed like that, and hair, while mussed, still appearing so subtly styled and possibly straightened as that, nor pants that cling like that, or dark brown eyes that pierce-

_Nope, that_ _'_ _s a guy._

The other boy's mouth detached, and fell against his neck, lips repositioning there to kiss, suck, and lick with hunger. He clawed at his shirt as if holding on for dear life, working his hands against his chest like a cat kneading its paws against and searching for comfort in a carpet. When the dark haired boy locked eyes with the boy across the room, he didn't look away, even though he had so clearly been caught. They stayed idly locked.

He wore a plain expression, not phased at all by the intruding eyes upon them. They shared a look like two strangers who happened to look up at the same time and link eyes in a coffee shop. When in fact, they were two strangers linking eyes while a third dropped to his knees and was working to unbutton the other's tight pair of blue jeans.

The boy, standing alone across the room's eyes moved downward, as if to alert the dark-haired boy to the intruder. It worked.

He watched him jump away, and giggled into his cup. The light-haired boy on the floor caught himself on his hands and clumsily crawled toward the jeans he wanted to get into.

The dark-haired one dropped to his knees to hold him back by the shoulders. He leaned in quickly to say something into the other boy's ear. There was a pause of stillness between them before he helped him up, and lead him toward the stairs.

The boy across the room frowned, and squeezed, the cup crunching slightly in his grip. The light-haired guy, the one that hadn't noticed him watching, was evidently wasted. And he had a pretty good hunch that the one with the dark hair was not so wasted. And they were heading up the stairs, where the bedrooms were.

If he were a superhero, he would have followed them. If he were just a little bit more physically built, he would have followed them. And he would've made damn sure no one was being taken advantage of.

He was neither, but he went anyway.

_To the rescue!_

The only thing he'd had to drink that night was Coca-Cola, so he wasn't buzzed by any means, but the sleep deprivation was enough to make him a little silly. He started humming his own to-the-rescue theme song as he went toward the stairs to follow. There were lots of dramatic pauses and drops as he dodged a few flailing arms and drunk teenagers that were shoving each other around and laughing like it was a game of red rover. It started off sort of like "dundundun da dada dun" and when he reached the stairs turned into a dramatic hum throughout his ascension.

He didn't have the slightest idea what he was going to do when he caught up to them. But, circumstances had lead him to be the sort of person that doesn't just stand by and hope nothing bad happened while watching something bad begin to happen.

No one was going to murder him in a house full of witnesses, he decided, so he would probably be fine.

He tried a few rooms, one was the bathroom, another an empty bedroom, until he came to one whose door was not only shut, but locked. He set the cup of Coca-Cola down on the hall table, and knocked on the door. He hoped they answered. He didn't have the guts to even attempt to kick a door in.

Almost to his surprise, the door opened. It was the dark-haired man. He looked annoyed this time. He was also (and gaining this information was entirely accidental) sporting a very prominent erection.

"What?" he asked.

His scowl hardened as the boy at the door stood on his toes to try and see over his shoulder.

"Is everything okay?" The other boy was on the bed, under the covers, his limbs moving about as if lazily trying to claw his way out. He was grumbling things under his breath, none of which were entirely audible.

"He's fine, officer." he mocked, rolling his eyes. "He drank too much."

"And you're just taking care of him on account of that?"

This earned him a sneer. "Yes-" he said. "I am not only his best friend, but as it happens, not a rapist, so please mind your own business." His face twisted into a wry and sarcastic smile, and he slammed the door in his face.

_Oops._

He turned around to leave, content with returning to his place against the doorframe, and nearly walking away without his cup of Coca-Cola. When he turned back around to go get it, the door was open again, and the dark-haired boy was standing there, looking at him.

"On second thought…" he said, "can you help me with this?" He gestured into the room in the direction of the bed and the other boy.

There was a slight pause.

"All right." came the reply, not entirely voluntarily.

The dark-haired boy beamed with thanks, and something either nervous or suspicious pooled in the boy who no longer had his Coca-Cola's stomach.

"I'm Shane." he said.

The boy without the Coca-Cola nodded back, and said. "Jason."

o-o-o-o

Shane didn't seem to be having any trouble when Jason walked in the room, shutting the door behind him. The drunk-off-his-ass guy was still conscious, but he'd calmed down considerably, or so it seemed.

Jason stood there awkwardly by the door, awaiting instruction, while Shane hurried to the bed to push the drunk kid back down, and then yanked the covers back over him.

"C'mon." The boy tried to sit up again, clumsily reaching up to touch Shane's face. Shane took the arm by the wrist and pushed it back down by his side, only to have it return to his shoulder and try to pull him onto the bed.

" _Fuck me._ _"_ he probably thought he was whispering, but Jason heard it loud and clear, and pursed his lips as his eyes widened.

"No. Go to sleep," Shane ordered, "You're tired as hell."

As if giving into the accusation, the boy on the bed fell back, and stretched his arms out sideways. "Fuck me to sleep." He giggled.

"Also, drunk as hell." Shane grumbled, unamused as he moved pillows around, putting most of them underneath the boy's head, and throwing others around probably just out of frustration. During all of this, Jason finally got a good look at the kid in the bed.

He didn't know very many people in the area yet, he probably couldn't name more than one or two students in any of his classes, but this was a face his recognized.

Tony Reynolds, likely one of the first names he matched to a face upon arriving. He wasn't quite the captain of the football team, but he was _on_ the football team as well as spokesperson of the student council. In other words, popular by default.

The worst part of all of this was, of course, that Tony Reynolds was most famous in a pair. He was most known for being the boyfriend of Trisha Craft, president of the student council, and they were the senior grade's popular steady couple, having been together for five years.

This, all information Jason had gathered from the reliable source that was his sister. And this, in front of him, was very bad news for Trisha Craft.

"Why don't you want me?" he moaned. Shane had covered him and all his limbs completely with the blankets as well as having tucked them under his body. He was squirming and flailing, having no idea how to escape his cocoon.

"You're straight, idiot. You have a girlfriend."

Tony grumbled something. "Who is that?" He looked at Jason again, this time disdainfully. "You're going to fuck him instead of me, aren't you."

"No," Shane said, looking back at Jason shortly to make sure he wasn't fleeing in fear yet.

"He's my new DD since you decided to get wasted."

"What?" Jason asked, but didn't get a reply.

"And stop saying "fuck." Shane added as pushed Tony's beer-logged hair back out of his eyes roughly, "Just go to sleep, and we'll take you home."

Tony murmured something, and then rolled over.

"Fuck you," he concluded. Moments passed, and Shane sat on the edge of the bed, just watching him. He didn't move, and it seemed as if he'd finally gone to sleep.

Shane turned back to Jason, looking at him pointedly.

"You can't tell anyone about any of this."

Jason wasn't sure he could keep that promise, but he nodded anyway.

"I won't," he replied, possibly lying.

"Seriously." Shane seemed to have caught the uncertainty. "He's just had a bad day, and he… gets like this when he's drunk. I keep trying to get him not to touch it, but…" He sighed, "he has a girlfriend and she's important to him and-,"

"I know." Jason interrupted. "It's okay. It's none of my business, but…" he paused. "…What about the fact that you two were making out in the middle of a group of people that probably know him?"

Shane looked guiltily at the floor between his feet. "I'm drunk, too." he explained. "I'm better at it, but I wasn't thinking."

"I was more leaning toward explaining to the other people who saw you, and possibly Trisha Craft if someone mentions it."

"It's happened before," Shane said, "No one has to know he started it. I take the blame."

Jason's face crinkled in distaste. "That's awful."

Shane smirked. "You've obviously heard of Tony, even though you're new." He stood up from the bed, and walked toward Jason. "Have you heard of me?" He stopped in front of him, though a little too close.

"No…" Jason said. Theresa hadn't mentioned anyone named Shane.

"…You will." he said, his warm, unpleasantly vodka-scented breath hitting Jason's face, and then walked around him. Their shoulders brushed as he did.

"I'm grabbing some water for the road," Shane said, "Don't bother him."

Jason didn't say anything. He decided to wait until after Shane came back to break the news to him that he didn't actually have a driver's license, nor had he ever been behind a steering wheel.

o-o-o-o

"What?"

Jason shrugged.

"Why didn't you say so sooner?" Shane huffed, and scratched at the back of his head with anxiety, having had his plan botched.

"You didn't give me time." Jason said. "You don't seem that drunk though, can't you handle it?"

"This is just how I am." Shane explained, looking lost. "I can think a little straighter than most but right now I can't see worth shit. You look like a fucking… I don't know… you're bulging and morphing and waving when I look at you."

"Oh," Jason said.

"You're coming with me."

"What?" Jason blinked.

"I'll be fine, just be my eyes. Warn me in case someone's crossing the street, or if there are deer…" he smiled cheekily, as if cuteness was going to earn him something.

"You'll drive straight off the road!" Jason protested.

"I won't," Shane stood up, putting the mouth of a bottle of water to his lips and gulping down about half of it. "I know the drive, I've done it five-hundred times. I just need you there to make sure."

"Take someone else!" This was going too far. The last thing he'd planned after he'd escaped the danger of his current home life was for it to lead to his demise.

"Everyone else is as drunk as this idiot!" Shane gestured toward Tony. "Please? You said you would help."

"Yeah, that was before you mentioned being the next drunken teenage accident to make the front page!"

"I'll be fine! I was going to do it alone anyway until you came knocking for some fucking reason."

"I was making sure he was okay!"

"Well aren't you a saint." Shane scoffed. "I will not get you killed, I promise. I'd just feel a lot better with someone sober in the car to let me know if I start trying to run over pedestrians."

Jason sighed, and crossed his arms.

"I'm going to do it either way. With you, we both have a better chance of surviving, as well as not killing anyone else."

"Trying to pity con me now?" He scowled. He really did not want to do this, but Shane was right. If one of them died in an unfortunate accident, he was going to feel guilty as all hell.

"You're the saint, not me."

"Why not just leave him here…?" Jason scoffed, annoyed. "You can walk home."

"I told you," Shane said. "He's my best friend," he looked incredibly serious and Jason almost had to hold his breath to keep from bursting out laughing. How old was this guy, twelve?

"I'll give you twenty dollars." Shane finally said.

"Done," Jason lost all qualms toward the request. Twenty dollars to ride shot-gun and keep a couple idiots from dying? That was his kind of job.

"One more thing," Shane said, "How are you with heavy-lifting?"

Jason scowled. Maybe he would actually have to earn this twenty.

o-o-o-o

"Why couldn't you have carried him?" Jason was lucky that he'd done so much weight-training in his time, though he was a month or so out of practice and not _that_ strong to begin with. He could barely hold this guy off the ground— not to mention felt awkward carrying one of the most popular guys in school over his shoulder past groups of students.

"I might look and act composed and sober, but I've had plenty. He doesn't need me dropping him."

"You're an ass," Jason scoffed, his should ready to give out. This guy must've weighed 160 at least. "Could you at least help me?" He could barely speak properly as he strained.

"I can for twenty dollars," Shane said.

"Asshole," Jason grumbled, "Slow down!"

Shane didn't slow down.

Jason felt relief wash over him when they finally made it to a car… he didn't know whose car, and he didn't care which of them it belonged to. It was an SUV, though, and Shane seemed like a sedan kind of guy so he would have guessed Tony-

"What are you waiting for?" Shane interrupted his thoughts, He was standing next to the car, holding the door to the back seat open. "Put him in."

"Whatever," Jason mumbled, and hobbled forward awkwardly toward the car. He should have just tossed the fucker on the seat, but he was keeping that twenty in mind.

Tony didn't wake up, thankfully. He just sort of murmured in an unintelligible language and shifted on the seat to get comfortable, and then went still.

"All right." Shane tossed a ring of keys up and caught it after Jason shut the back seat door. "Moment of truth." He gave a lopsided smile, and then turned to walk around back of the car to get to the driver's side. Unfortunately, he didn't go far back quite enough and walked straight into the broad side of the car.

"We're going to die," Jason predicted.

"Shut up." Shane rubbed his forehead where he'd hit it, and continued around the car. Jason silently wondered if his life was really worth twenty dollars.

It didn't take him long to make up his mind, open the passenger side door, and get in.

o-o-o

The drive was going pretty smoothly, to Jason's surprise. Shane was quiet, keeping his eyes forward, and did seem to know what he was doing as well as where he was going. Maybe he was sobering up? He had been drinking a lot of water since they left.

The silence was definitely comfortable, but Jason had a question. "So," he began. "how did you end up in this situation, anyway?"

Shane grumbled something intelligible under his breath, scratching at his forehead, then spoke up.

"He wasn't supposed to drink tonight," he said. "He specifically told me he wouldn't so I that I could. But apparently, something got to him, and I found him drowning himself in cheap rum after I'd already had enough."

"What a dick," Jason snorted.

"He wouldn't tell me why," Shane looked in the rear view mirror with concern. "He's actually usually really responsible when it's his turn… he's pretty responsible in general. Something really must've bothered him for him to end up like this."

"What a dick," Jason repeated.

Shane released a short, sharp "ha!" followed by some uncontrolled giggles. "You're weird." He commented between the laughs. "Are you even buzzed?"

Jason shook his head. "No. I didn't drink."

"Are you hot?"

Jason sat quietly for a few moments, trying to interpret this question.

"What?" he finally asked.

"I said, are you hot?"

"Excuse me?" If this was some sort of local booze lingo, he needed to be enlightened. Oh— was he just asking if Jason wanted him to turn the air conditioning on?

"No, I'm fine." Jason replied.

Shane scoffed. "No. I told you I can't see straight, you looked like a bulging blur earlier and it's dark now. I'm asking if you are physically attractive."

Jason scowled, feeling a deep urge to avoid this question and everything related to it at all costs. "Why?"

"Uh, because?" Shane snorted. "I'm gay and you're a guy and I would like to know if you're hot so I can consider adding your picture to my scrapbook."

Jason said nothing.

"Just kidding about that last part. But seriously, I'm just curious."

"Not particularly." Jason answered simply.

"We'll see about that."

Jason scoffed. "If you weren't going to believe me, why did you ask?"

"Because I bet you're hot as hell and I just wanted to see if you'd admit it."

"Fuck you."

o-o-o-o

"Lookie! We're alive!" Shane put the car in park after pulling into a round-about driveway and stopping in front of what appeared to be a front door.

"This is his house?" Jason was surprised. It wasn't what Jason would typically describe as a mansion, but it was only a step down from there. It wasn't in a development like most houses this size, and the ones around it were relatively small. But this one, while it seemed to be lacking a garage, was clearly two-stories and an attic. The front porch railing was black metal, decorated with carved makeshift vines that ran up the posts that held. The front door was decorated similarly to match, with the vines winding up from the bottom and meeting in the middle to form what could have been taken for a heart.

"No, this is my house." Shane snickered as he got out of the car. The one thing that didn't really match was the state of the front yard. The grass was recently mowed, but the bushes in front of the house were growing haphazardly, entirely untrimmed, and rose up to block even the windows.

"Yours?" Holy fuck, Shane was the rich one? That was… surprising, somehow. Rich, and openly gay? Didn't rich kids have expectations thrust upon them that are enforced by the guilt and/or dependence of being able to obtain anything they wanted through their parents wallets?

Jason got out of the car as well.

"Why did you bring him here?"

"Long story, plus it's close anyway," Shane said. "He's here all the time anyway, he's used to waking up in my bed and not knowing why," he winked, and leaned in to pull Tony out.

"You guys really are close," Jason observed. He was thankful that it seemed Shane was going to carry him inside. His arms still hurt at the shoulders slightly, and he was prone to end up dropping him.

"Besties since diapers." Shane seemed extremely proud of this. "Well, not quite, but close enough. Get his feet so they don't fall." Shane had Tony under the arms but his bottom half was still on the seat. Jason squeezed between Tony's body and the door, trying to be gentle as he lifted his feet up, and turned him so Shane could get a grip.

Shane stumbled slightly on his first step, but didn't fall.

"You gonna be okay?" Jason asked. He didn't want to deal with two cracked heads in someone else's driveway.

"Yeah, I think I'm sobering up." Shane said, and carried Tony past him, much more gracefully than Jason had been able to.

Jason just followed Shane inside, not knowing what else to do. He assumed Shane was going to drop him off at home after they were finished. That would make sense, right?

It might have been the cleanest house Jason had ever stepped foot in. White, spotless carpet, dark, polished wood floors, marble countertops and giant incredibly comfortable looking beige furniture with lots and lots of pillows. Jason was still wearing his shoes. So was Shane, but Shane was possibly some sort of high-class prissy type with perfect, clean everything. His shoes probably didn't know the definition of the word "dirt."

Jason decided to take his off at the door, just in case.

"Wait down here," Shane said as he started up a winding flight of stairs with Tony Reynolds in his arms. "I'll be back in a second."

Jason nodded, pleased to not have to venture further into this enviable domain.

It took a while for Shane to come back downstairs. Jason avoided sitting on any of the furniture, worried that rich-people furniture wasn't actually for sitting on. So he just stood awkwardly, waiting, until he heard the tha-dump, tha-dump of someone hopping down the stairs.

He'd assumed Shane had been tucking Tony in or something, but was surprised to find that he was in a completely different outfit. More casual, navy-blue sweat pants, and a black tank-top The top was tight, almost too tight but it didn't look bad at all, and the bottom of his stomach was showing.

"Wow." Shane stopped halfway down the stairs. He sounded surprised, almost breathless. "I can see better now…" He explained, and he was looking directly at Jason from those stairs, and he didn't stop looking at him as he trotted the last few steps. His feet were bare, Jason noticed when he reached the bottom.

Jason was becoming more and more wary with each step that was taken in his direction. There was something so direct in each one, and those brown, half-hooded eyes wouldn't stop flickering up and down while still fixed on him him.

Jason did not want this. He did not need this. He _could not_ have this. He neither needed nor wanted his breath to pick up, his heart to start pounding, his insides to twist and knot. Shane was coming closer and looking at him like _that_ and all he could do was stand against a wall, vulnerable, and try to remind himself how to move.

Shane stopped in front of him, but he was close. So close that Jason held his breath so Shane wouldn't notice how heavy it had become. So close that he was painfully aware of those exposed hips and so close that his fingers ached to inch forward and just touch them…

_No, no, no this wasn_ _'_ _t supposed to_ _…_

And then Shane's hand was in his pants. He swore his heart stopped beating and a hundred different horrid outcomes flooded his mind at once.

But it wasn't like that. Wasn't like anything at all… not really his hand, either. No, all he'd done was shove a twenty-dollar bill into Jason's front pocket.

"Thanks," Shane said in a low, conspicuously suggested tone,

"Come on," he said, "I'll drive you home." and then he was gone. No more closeness making him feel hot, no more eyes boring into his skull as if reading every, private thought. At one point there was a flicker in his eye, it looked like doubt, it looked, for a moment, like he knew.

Just Jason against a wall, frozen, breathless, and feeling like a complete fuck-up.

He quickly mustered up some dignity, just enough to follow Shane outside, and shut the door behind him.

"You drive bare-foot?"

"Yeah, sometimes. Why?" Shane shrugged. Jason didn't answer, thinking only that it didn't seem like something a rich person would do.

"Clothes are restraining, especially socks and shoes," Shane explained as he opened the driver's side door. "I prefer to go bare as often as possible." He grinned, and disappeared inside.

Jason found his hand frozen on the door handle at that line, because he was sure that Shane did not only mean his feet when he said bare.

He could not wait to be at home, and asleep, and forgetting this night ever happened.

o-o-o

Walking through the door to his new home had never felt so good. He was exhausted. Twenty-dollars richer, but exhausted, and not from carrying unconscious bodies around. No, Shane was the exhausting one.

It was ridiculous. He seemed perfectly normal when he was supposedly drunk, but when he, according to himself, started to sober up, he did nothing but flirt. On the ride home? Nothing but flirt.

"You're right. You're not really hot."

"That's not the right word for it, at least."

"More like adorable."

Jason felt a little sick to his stomach. Probably something to do with the fact that after Shane said good-bye, despite the fact that Jason could have just said it back, as that would have been the polite, stay-out-of-trouble choice to make, he didn't.

Instead, he muttered. "Yeah. I'm not into guys," and then slammed the car door, not looking back.

He felt bad, and he felt annoyed that he felt bad, and this night had been a load of horse shit, especially considering that he had school in the morning.

"Hey," he was startled at the soft voice. It came from the sofa. Teresa lifted her head, eyes half-open, looking over the back of the couch sleepily. "Sorry about earlier."

Jason nodded. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"No, I do…" She went on. "It's just, Jensen, he's-"

"A complete asshole and you deserve better?" Jason cut her off. She looked confused. "If those aren't the exact words you're going to say then, please, don't say anything about him."

She only sighed, looking at him hard. She ended up faltering, and looking away under his equally hard gaze.

"Are you going to bed?" She asked, more gently.

"Yeah," He said. "Good night. I'll look at jobs tomorrow."

"You don't have to." She murmured, then sat up more to face him fully. "You've been through so much, and you just got here. Let us take care of you for a while."

"I'm fine," He replied, and turned has back to head toward the stairs.

"Jason."

He tensed at the sound of his name from her mouth. She'd seemed so uncertain, so reserved, so uncomfortable using that name at first and part of him didn't want to be so pleased so quickly that she'd adopted it so casually. Just like she'd been so shocked by the way he looked, letting the words _"_ _you_ _'_ _re like a different person_ _"_ escape her frowning lips and then quickly covering it up with _"_ _you_ _'_ _re so grown up, I mean!_ _"_ and a forced smile.

He stopped, and turned to her slowly, lifting his eyes to meet her.

She looked like she was going to say something bigger, but in the end, she turned away, and spoke gently. "Good night."


	2. Through Hoops

It was mid October, all of the teachers who bothered to decorate their rooms were putting up or had put up Halloween decorations. Happy-faced scarecrows sitting on door frames, cheap plastic skeletons hanging in windows, pumpkins and crows and black cats everywhere. Even the occasional Dracula, or mummy.  
  
Jason had liked Halloween, liked dressing up, liked going to the parties. When he’d lived down south he had a few of friends who were just as into it as he was. He didn’t miss them or that life, but he missed the ease and excitement of Halloween.  
  
As he walked through the halls, listening to mentions of costumes and parties, he was almost surprised to find himself feeling alone. He wanted to put effort into a costume, but there was no point if no one was going to see it.  
  
He arrived at his locker, and noticed something to his left as he started to enter the combination. The same girl who invited him to that party smiled at him from a few rows down. She didn’t give him time to smile back or wave before she looked down, and away.  
  
She was something to consider. She seemed nice, and she was cute. A girlfriend wasn’t necessarily a bad thing to have. It was normal for a guy to have a girlfriend, and normalcy was good. But women usually expected sex, and regardless, he didn’t want a situation where he had to avoid getting too close to someone he was naturally expected to be close with. He wouldn’t be that guy.  
  
He’d start with friends, loose friends, friends that were around and gave him a sense of normality but didn’t expect things of him.  
  
“Hey,” a voice, slightly familiar, came from beside him. He turned, surprised to find Tony Reynolds standing in front of him. “I just, um…” he stuttered. Jason blinked, he’d never seen this guy behave like this. He’d seen him around, usually after school. Normally he was Mr. Confident, almost to a bullying degree. If he had something to say, he said it, and you would shut up and listen.  
  
Jason quickly realized that this behavior had to do with his dark little secret.  
  
“It’s okay,” Jason said, not letting him explain, “I don’t have any interest in telling anyone what I saw.”  
  
Tony’s eyes were wide and thankful, and then Jason rethought his statement.  
  
“Expect, maybe you’re girlfriend, because leading her on is—,”  
  
“I’m not!” Tony interrupted, his voice a loud bark, startling a group of freshman across the hall. “It’s not like that at all! I’m not here to make sure you don’t tattle on me, I’m here to make sure you’re not getting the wrong idea.”  
  
“Uh, ‘kay.” Jason wanted to go to class.  
  
“I was drunk, Trish and I got in an argument. He was there. That’s it.”  
  
“According to him, this is a recurring problem,” Jason retorted. “Although, I’m sure most of the time you don’t even remember it, considering how wasted you were last night.”  
  
“Fuck off,” Tony shoved him backward, and he stumbled against the back of the locker. “Don’t talk about shit you don’t understand. I just came over here to thank you for helping Shane get me home because he’s an idiot and likes to drive drunk.”  
  
“Don’t thank me, he gave me a twenty,” Jason answered, a little sore from his shoulder blade hitting the metal locker door.  
  
Tony snorted. “Oh,” he backed off. “he didn’t mention that.”  
  
Jason shrugged.  
  
“Greedy, though, aren’t you? Most people would just ask for a blow job.”  
  
Jason sneered, ready to walk away. It was clear this fuckwad had something up his ass, and was probably just pissed that it wasn’t Shane’s dick. If he wanted to start shit, he could start it with someone else.  
  
“You’re. Welcome.” Jason replied, dead-pan, and turned to leave.  
  
Unfortunately, when he did, he walked right into a body, and a textbook whose corner jammed itself straight into his ribs.  
  
“Owe…” he jumped backwards, holding the spot where he’d been stabbed by the book.  
  
“Uh, hi,” Shane said. “Sorry, I was just…” he trailed off.  
  
“Whatever,” Jason spat, and tried to go around him.  
  
“Hey,” Shane caught his arm gently, and Jason didn't fight it. “I was looking for you,”  
  
“Why?” This situation was uncomfortable. He could feel Tony Reynolds still standing behind him, and Shane was in front of him, and their relationship was seemingly on edge. He just wanted out of here.  
  
“Because, yesterday…” Shane said, scratching his neck. “What you said when you got out of the car… I just, I honestly thought you were and that’s why I was so…” He trailed off, as if looking for the word.  
  
“Forward?” Jason offered.  
  
“Yeah.” Shane shrugged.  
  
“It’s okay. I didn’t mean to be such a dick about it anyway,” he hoped this would mean he could leave.  
  
“It’s fine.” Shane laughed a little bit, but didn’t move. “I guess I just didn’t think a straight guy would follow two guys upstairs after they’d been making out.”  
  
“I was feeling heroic,” Jason explained.  
  
“That’s really cool of you,” Shane said, looking him in the eyes with an almost childish sincerity.  
  
“I like to see it as common decency,” he kept glancing over Shane’s shoulder at the open hallways that lead to his next class where he could finally be in peace and forget about last night.  
  
“Shane.”  
  
Jason cringed at the voice behind him.  
  
“What’s up?” Shane looked up from Jason to Tony behind him, who was leaning against the lockers, looking bitter, with his arms crossed over his chest.  
  
“We should get to History, I told Trish I’d stop being late.”  
  
Shane snickered. “Silly girl,” he said. “she should know you’re never late without my bad influence.”  
  
Tony snorted. “Which is why I should ditch you.”  
  
“The question is, why don’t you?” Shane wiggled his eyebrows, “it’s because I’m just too pretty.”  
  
“Not as pretty as me,” Tony said, flatly, and Shane laughed, loudly, making it too clear that he found that to be the most ridiculous statement in the world. Jason was looking for an opening to quietly slink around Shane and escape.  
  
“That’ll be the day,” Shane said between some follow-up giggles. With that, he turned his attention back to Jason, putting both hands on either of his shoulders and looking straight at his eyes. It made Jason feel a little like a child, and his eyes narrowed.  
  
“I’ll see you in physics,” he said.  
  
Shane was in his physics class?  
  
“Yeah,” Jason nodded, finding it hard to force a tiny smile that did no more than twitch the edge his lips. He thought that would be the end, but Shane just stood there silently, still holding him by the shoulders, still looking into his eyes.  
  
“Uh…”  
  
“Shane, if you’re going to screw this kid, do it some other day, and not in the middle of the hall,” Tony leaned forward and knocked one of Shane’s hands off his shoulder.  
  
“What?” Shane jumped, surprised, as if he’d fallen off into a daze. “No, sorry,” he removed his other hand. “You just felt… really familiar for a second.”  
  
Jason cocked his head. _Felt familiar? The hell does that mean?_  
  
“Just for the record,” Tony tapped Jason’s back. Jason looked over his shoulder in askance. “If you do ever decide to try batting for the other team, steer clear of this guy,” he poked Shane’s chest, hard enough to shove him backwards, “Unless you’re just looking for a quickie, that’ll—,”  
  
“Shut up.” Shane shoved Tony hard against the lockers and walked around him, cackling as he did.  
  
“Asshole!” Tony launched himself off the line of lockers. “That hurt!” He slung one arm out to try and grab Shane as he passed, but missed by a long-shot.  
  
Shane started to run, still laughing, and weaved through annoyed students as Tony started to chase after him.  
  
“See-ya, Jason!” Shane shouted, holding his hand in the air to wave, no time in his escape to attempt looking back.  
  
o-o-o-o  
  
Big, bright orange letters against a purple background, complete with little cartoon bats and spiderwebs, and even a cat in the bottom corner.  
  
 _Come dressed in any (school appropriate costume!)_ they said.  
  
The school appropriate was a definite drawback, but he wasn’t expecting hugely artistic masterpieces from any of his fellow students to begin with, and his own ideas were mostly conservative when it came to gore and skin. It was tempting, because he had savings, and plans to get a new job. He could afford it.  
  
“Oh, hey!” A voice sounded from beside him. “Are you going to the Halloween dance?”  
  
Jason looked up, and was met with a pair of caramel-colored eyes. It was the girl from the party, and from earlier that morning.  
  
“Oh, no.” He quickly placed the flyer back against the bulletin board and haphazardly re-tacked it. “I’m uh, busy that night, so…”  
  
“Aw.” She did a sort of disappointed slouch and pout, but then her pep came back with a grin and a slight click of her heel against the tile. “Let me know if you change your mind. I’d love to be your date.” With that, she turned on her heel, and strutted off in the opposite direction.   
  
He looked at her as she walked away, then down, then up at the wall, then down again. He shared a class with her second period, and the following period as well. He’d write her a note.  
  
o-o-o-o  
  
“Hey, still with me?”  
  
Shane snapped out of a daze at Tony’s voice, and looked at him, blinking.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
Shane studied him, still halfway in another world.  
  
“Are you here or somewhere else?” Tony squinted, as if trying to read Shane’s mind.  
  
“Raj Colbert has the greatest ass.” Shane released a long, drawn-out sigh of immense appreciation, looking straight ahead again. He nodded forward toward the teacher’s desk, where one of the students was leaning over, propped up on his hands, legs crossed at the ankle.  
  
Tony rolled his eyes. “And I wonder why you’re so oblivious,” he heard another dreamy sigh and huffed, “you dated him for three weeks. You hate each other.” He tried to put his hand over Shane’s eyes, “stop staring at his ass.”  
  
Shane calmly pushed his hand down, and it didn’t seem to interrupt his viewing at all. “I loved his ass.” His breath came out ragged, “you know he only went out with me because he has an enormous crush on you, though?”  
  
Tony regarded him for a moment, then looked at Raj Colbert, leaning over the teacher’s desk, and then shrugged, mumbling something.  
  
“You’re so gay,” Shane cackled.  
  
“Fuck off,” he got a middle finger pressed against his nose, which shoved him backward.  
  
Shane laughed louder, so loud that Raj looked over his shoulder and frowned, like it had interrupted his flirting with Mrs. Carter. Shane met his eyes and licked his lips seductively and received an eye roll.  
  
Tony snickered, silencing his laughter as best he could. Once he gathered himself, he asked, “So what are we doing tonight?”  
  
“I dunno what you’re doing,” Shane said. “I have a date.”  
  
“Oh,” Tony said, nodding with acceptance but with an obvious sink in his voice tone.  
  
“Aw, you’re so sad!” Shane stuck his bottom lip out at him, “did you have something in mind?”  
  
“No, fuck off, I’m not sad,” Tony snorted, “just, with who?”  
  
“Clark Bates,” Shane replied, “you probably don’t know him, he’s a junior. He’s cute.”  
  
“Not a keeper?”  
  
“Are there any keepers?”  
  
Tony smiled at that, and laughed a little, nodding.  
  
Shane shrugged, “I don’t know, he seems pretty cool, so whatever. He asked me out so who am I to say no?”  
  
“What if he just wants to fuck?”  
  
He shrugged again, “then he came to the right place?”  
  
The school bell rang, and Raj Colbert turned around to leave, smiling and waving at Mrs. Carter, who appeared amused, but also uncertain as he blew kisses. He was headed toward the door, but stopped by Tony’s desk as he passed.  
  
“You really should teach your boyfriend not to stare at other men,” He said, and then continued forward, brushing his hip against Tony’s shoulder as he left. Shane’s eyes followed him until he disappeared behind the doorframe.  
  
Tony watched this happen, observed the slightly amount of drool that had formed at the edge of Shane’s mouth, and decided, “I definitely should.”  
  
Shane blinked, and looked over at him, “What?”  
  
o-o-o-o-o  
  
Trisha Craft met the pair of them at the doorway as they exited World History, holding a thin stack of notebooks against her hip and under one arm. “Hey kids,” She said, not appearing particularly excited to see them. “Is it time for food yet?”  
  
Shane whined. “Don’t say the F word.”  
  
“Fuck?” Tony laughed to himself. No one else did.  
  
“Two more periods ‘til lunch,” Trisha said, “they’re serving nachos.”  
  
“Oh god, not the N word.”  
  
“I won’t say that one,” Tony mumbled, and was taken by surprise when Trisha swooped in and stole a kiss off of his lips.  
  
A huge smile graced his face, one that Shane never failed to miss when she did things like that. He couldn’t hold back a small smile as well.  
  
She grinned  back at Tony, who just sort of stared dreamily at her eyes until she turned her head to speak to Shane.  
  
“We have student council duty this period.”  
  
Shane was brought back to reality by this bad news.   
  
“But… what? No, physics…” he tried.  
  
“It’s doubled today, on account of Halloween Dance,” she explained. “We get to skip fourth,” she winked at Tony.  
  
“You’re leaving me all alone?” Shane pouted at Tony as they began to walk. Tony had to look away because that face was hard to resist.  
  
“Got work to do, can’t help it,” he grunted, looking up as if the bricks above the lockers were extremely interesting.  
  
“Dick.” Shane grumbled, “Hate.”  
  
“Dick hate?” Trisha snickered, “that’s not like you.”  
  
“Zip-it, I can have layers.” Shane glared at her.  
  
She giggled and gave him a middle finger, nudging Tony left at an intersection where Shane would be going right.  
  
“Fine. See you heteros at lunch,” Shane huffed, and grudgingly went toward his physics class. Looking at the positives, he reminded himself that at least his future husband would be there.  
  
o-o-o-o  
  
Jason was standing next to the classroom door when he arrived, talking to some girl. A junior, he guessed, because Shane didn’t recognize her. She was good-looking, but taller than Jason. Dressed sort-of boyishly, with her long, black, curly hair pulled back neatly, tall and thin with dark skin and navy blue double-white-striped khaki pants and a white tank-top and a black jacket on over it.  
  
This was clearly against the laws of nature. No attractive females were allowed to talk and laugh and look so smitten with _his_ future husband. Especially not while he was looking so smitten back. This had to stop.  
  
He hopped up, sort of like peter cottontail on the bunny trail, and landed his last hop straight in between them, cutting Jason off mid-sentence.  
  
“Uh…” the female seemed confused.  
  
“Hi?” Jason glared, and Shane was smirking like he had a dirty secret.  
  
“Hello. I’m here for physics,” Shane _said_ that, but all he was doing was staring straight at Jason’s eyes, who in turn, had to look away.  
  
“…Uh, well, the class is there?” Jason pointed inside, trying to verbally nudge him along. Shane didn’t take the bate at all, and Lyssa was already appearing put-off by his presence. The last thing Jason wanted was for her to resent him because he had managed to get this weirdo trailing him around wherever they went.  
  
“But you’re out here. Why don’t we go inside together?” Shane suggested. Jason opened his mouth to protest, but he was cut off.  
  
“That’s a great idea!” Lyssa asserted herself between them, sticking her arm underneath Jason’s and linking them together. His heart rate sped up slightly when she touched him.   
  
“Let’s all go to physics together!” she sneered victoriously at Shane, and aggressively stepped toward the classroom. Jason struggled to follow her in, eyes flicking from Shane’s to the back of her head. He appeared just as surprised as Jason to her behavior.  
  
Little bells and a choir went off in Shane’s head, a melody only matched by the familiarity of Amazing Grace. Only the lyrics were just “cockblock” over and over again. He followed them in, on the lookout for openings to insert himself into openings in the conversation.  
  
When Jason had tossed the note onto Lyssa’s desk, accepting her invitation as a date to the Halloween party, he hadn’t expected such an ecstatic reaction. She was excitable and full of energy, and not to mention goofy. She had a lot of life in her, and he didn’t dislike that. It was refreshing.  A date didn’t necessarily mean a relationship, and she was unlikely to want to continue things afterward anyway. It was a suitable opportunity to blend in and stop rumors before they started.  
  
“So Shane,” Lyssa turned to him once they sat down, and Shane was taken by surprise, as he hadn’t introduced himself or mentioned his name.  
  
“Uh…?” was all he managed to get out.  
  
“How did you end up in Physics? Shouldn’t you have taken it last year?”  
  
“I opted for Biology III last year,” Shane replied, “I prefer Biology. But it only goes to three here, and I still needed one more science credit, so Physics it was.”  
  
That meant Shane had some strong and slightly unexpected merit in school, given that he was also clearly a party animal of sorts. Jason had been an honor student down south, but during his last semester he’d dropped to a C average. He wasn’t planning on getting back to the honor rank now.  
  
“More importantly, how do you know my name?”  
  
“I’m friends with Trisha. We’re both in the student council.” she replied, “She talks about you sometimes. Just mentions, since you’re always around Tony."  
  
“Aaah, I see,” Shane stuck out his bottom lip and thoughtfully stroked his imaginary beard that appeared to run all the way down to his mid-torso. Jason rolled his eyes and stifled a small laugh at him.  
  
“So what’s your story with my DD?” Shane then asked her, gesturing toward Jason with a quick nod of his head.  
  
“I can’t even drive,” Jason grumbled at the nonsensical title.  
  
“Actually, I’m taking him to the Halloween dance.”  
  
“You’re taking him?” Shane questioned her word choice.  
  
She laughed. “He doesn’t really seem like the “taking” type.”  
  
“Hey!” Jason barked, she gave him a sheepish smile in return.  
  
“I agree,” Shane smiled at him, “He’s the kind of person that would rather _be_ taken.”  
  
She nodded in a agreement and with a sort of snicker, and Jason didn’t understand the meaning nor conclusion of this conversation but he sure as hell knew he didn’t like it. _Note to self: Keep Shane and Lyssa away from one another._  
  
“Not to mention, he doesn’t drive,” Lyssa added.  
  
“Thank you!” Jason pointed out, accepting this as back-up for his former statement.  
  
“So.” Shane said. “Only been here a few days and you’ve already landed a date to a dance with this foxy minx.” Shane presented Lyssa, who took the compliment with a smile and a slight seated bow. “I didn’t peg you for a lady’s man.”  
  
“I’m not,” Jason huffed, mildly offended, “And I’ve been here two weeks,” he corrected.  
  
The trio was silenced with the start of class, or at least a desire to actually pay attention from both of the people Jason was with. Jason would have just as soon ignored the teacher who’d called for attention, but his companions seemed keen on conformity. So, as they turned to face front, he reluctantly did the same.  
  
He doodled on a piece of notebook paper throughout the class, pretending to take notes off the powerpoint slides like everyone else. Occasionally he’d jot something down just because he had nothing better to do, but today his brain didn’t seem too interested in working in a straight line.   
  
The bell cut Mr. Hershal, the physics teacher, off mid-sentence, and everyone began to rise and leave without his dismissal, ignoring him when he mentioned that they’d continue tomorrow, and to study some forgettable measure of pages in the textbook.  
  
“So, I guess I’ll be seeing you at lunch?” Lyssa asked Jason as they stepped outside the classroom. Shane was there, but her eyes were focused on Jason, making it clear that she was speaking to him.  
  
“Yup,” Jason nodded. “See-ya.”   
  
She returned the nod, almost half-heartedly, be for turning away to leave.  
  
“She’s cool.” Shane’s voice came from behind him, and Jason sighed loudly and with as much drama as he could muster.  
  
“Why do you keep talking to me?” He asked when he’d turned around. “Do you want something?”  
  
Shane’s eyes widened in surprise at the hostile remark, and he frowned. “I don’t want anything. I just… like you,” He shrugged, “And don’t freak out because I don’t mean it like that.”  
  
“Uh-huh,” Jason wouldn’t say he didn’t buy it, he just didn’t need someone like Shane hanging around him all the time. He was a problem for obvious reasons and the epitome of things that Jason didn’t need. “Well, I’m kind of a loner, so,” it was the best explanation that he could think of.  
  
But Shane didn’t leave, and in fact, he just stood there when Jason faced him, looking down at him as if studying him, and his expression.  
  
Shane had intense eyes. They were a bright and vivid bronze, almost closer to orange, and the way their color and vibrance just made them feel invasive, or aggressive.  His gaze made Jason’s insides squirm, mostly in his chest area, and he was beginning to have a hard time looking at them, meeting them as fiercely as he could. He was beginning to feel like they were challenging him.  
  
“A loner who is already gaining a girlfriend?” And, sure enough, a challenge.  
  
“She asked me,” Jason defended, “no one said we’d start dating.”  
  
“She _likes_ you,” Shane said, softly, and overly seriously, “don’t waste her time.”  
  
Jason scoffed. “Is it really your business?” This, right here, was a waste of time.  
  
“Are you sure you’ve never been with a guy?”   
  
A completely unrelated question in return shouldn’t have knocked Jason off his mental balance, but it did.  Jason felt a lump form in his throat, and he quickly shook his head in reply, shaking unwelcome thoughts away as he did.  
  
“I thought you said you don’t like me that way,” he couldn’t think of what else to say.  
  
“I lied, maybe.”  
  
That was disturbingly forward without the “maybe.” A word that, despite the fact that Shane was basically telling him his interests were more than platonic, invoked doubt toward the idea.  
  
And this, ladies and gentleman, was what made Shane problematic. In addition to his intense bright eyes, and glowing dark caramel skin, and how unnecessarily close he would get sometimes—  
  
Jason backed away the moment he felt breath tickle his ear, and glared hard at Shane, who’d pulled further back, but was still looking at him through suggestive, coaxing eyes.  
  
“I’m sure,” Jason spat, and as soon as he did, a third body appeared at Shane’s side.  
  
“Hey! Fancy meeting you here!” A boy who looked like he could have been a freshmen wrapped himself around Shane’s arm, which was almost as thick as the kid’s waste. He had dark brown hair, cut short and styled plainly, pale skin, and was of average height.  
  
A smile appeared on Shane’s face, though it may have been forced, and he turned his attention to the newcomer.  
  
“Hey to you,” He said sounding nothing short of disappointed, and Jason immediately decided this was his chance to walk away.  
  
“See-ya around,” He mumbled as he left.  
  
“Yeah, glad we had this talk!” Shane called after him, smirking as he disappeared into crowds of students.  
  
Clark, his boyfriend as of about three hours ago, pouted curiously as they watched Jason leave.   
  
“Who was that?” He asked.  
  
“Some straight kid,” Shane shrugged, and freed his arm from Clark’s grasp only to put it around his shoulder, “what class do you have next?”  
  
Clark happily stuck himself against Shane’s side, and wrapped both his arms around Shane’s upper arm, hugging it tightly.  
  
“I have lunch,” he said with an overflow of pep and a little hop in his step when Shane turned with him toward the direction of the cafeteria.  
  
“I’ll walk you.” Shane replied, smiling, and secretly thankful that he didn’t share a lunch period with Clark. He did share one with Jason, and the last thing he needed was a potentially jealous already overly clingy underclassmen boyfriend hanging around while he flirted with his main interest.  
  
o-o-o-o  
  
 _“This is stupid.”_  
  
 _“Why do you have to be so over dramatic? Just get over it already.”_  
  
 _Her throat was dry, she couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. She wanted to do as they said, to be over it, to just please them now, so they’d stop looking at her like that. So they could have fun._  
  
 _“It was two months ago, so just stop.”_  
  
 _She couldn’t breathe right. She started to heave, choking on air and clenching her fingers in and out against her pant leg, not sure what he was grabbing for. Her eyes felt wet, and she hated them because she didn’t want to be this way. They were right. They were right, they were right and she---_  
  
 _“Oh my fucking god.” One of the others said. “We can’t even be around her without her throwing a hissy fit for attention.”_  
  
 _‘Ignore me. Just ignore me. I’ll stop, please. Ignore me right now and I’ll be okay in a little while.’ She begged this within her mind, but couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud._  
  
 _She closed her eyes tightly, and put her hands over her head._  
  
 _“Yeah.” A third voice. “Seriously? Are you crying? Why don’t you get help or something? We can’t even hang out like this.”_  
  
 _She shook her head quickly, and looked up to her closest friend, eyes wet, and tried to open her mouth. Nothing came out, no words, just an empty sob. As soon as she felt a tear begin to roll down her cheek, she shot up, and ran out of the room as fast as she could. Down the hall, and out of the house._  
  
 _She never went back._  
  
The memory left his fingernails digging into his upper arms, and he found himself directing his worst death glare at his art instructor, who had paled and stuttered during her lecture when she noticed it.  
  
She said nothing, and looked away, clearing her throat before continuing.  
  
It was a long time ago, but dumb things would trigger memories like that of a life he once lived, full of fake friends and pieces of himself that he’d long since disowned.  
  
 He was pretty sure it had something to do with the fact that one of the boys in the class, who wouldn’t shut up, had a very similar voice to one of the ones present at the time. One of those deep, loud purposefully obnoxious voices that drawled at the end of every sentence.  
  
“Hey.” He barked at the kid, before he knew he was speaking. He said it straight in his direction, loud and firm. The other boy jumped, looking up at him with surprise, and then disgust. “Ms. Malik is talking.” Jason said, and he scoffed, eyebrows furrowing in strong offense but said nothing, and instead glared at the table in front of him.  
  
When Jason turned back to face front, Mrs. Malik was smiling thankfully at him. He didn’t really do it for her though, he’d just wanted an excuse to stop hearing that voice.  
  
o-o-o-o  
  
Jason had not been made aware at the time of agreement to sit with Lyssa at lunch that she happened to be the most popular human being in her grade. Not that he didn’t think she fit the bill, but when she lead him to a table with about fifteen students all nestled into a very small area, he started to sweat.  
  
He wasn’t that shy, but this was slightly overwhelming. He didn’t need nor welcome this much attention.  
  
“Hey, everyone, this is Jason.” Especially when about two thirds of the amount turned their attention to her as she introduced him. “He’s my date for the Halloween Dance this year.”  
  
And even more so when two of the guys closest to her found this to be the most mind-blowing news in history. “Ooooh, shit!” One of them said, the other exclaiming with a “fuck!”  
  
“You’re really scraping the bottom of the jar with this one.” One said, and Jason felt like running away.  
  
“I was scraping the bottom of a _barrel_ with you, Mike.” She replied, not missing a beat, and sat down, gesturing Jason to sit next to her.  
  
“Seriously, I’ve never seen this kid before.”  
  
“He’s new, obviously.” She said.  
  
“Yeah, hi.” He said, but that was all he had. This was not his scene and these were not his people and he couldn’t find any better words.  
  
“Hi.” Was what he got back. Well, you give what you get. “I’m Mike.” This guy sort of looked like a douchebag. He was wearing a cap, backwards, so Jason couldn’t see the logo. He looked like he had a buzz cut, but it wasn’t clear on account of cap. He talked like a douchebag too.  
  
“This is Lance.” The guy sitting next to him seemed to still be blown back by the situation, he was just holding his hand underneath his mouth and staring at Jason like he couldn’t believe he existed.  
  
“So are you going to wear heals to the dance?” Mike asked, but the question was not directed at Lyssa. “Because you look like a hobbit next to her.” He snickered, and pointed. Definitely a douchebag.  
  
“Maybe.” Was all Jason said. He wanted to say _“Maybe I’ll dress entirely feminine to adhere to society’s expectation for certain physical aspects in mine and my date’s genders.”_ But he didn’t.  
  
He earned a laugh from some for his vagueness.  
  
“Scuse me.” Jason almost jumped when he felt someone trying to squeeze between him and whoever was next to him. He heard the chair drag across the ground and a foot nudged his out of the way.  
  
“Who the hell are you?” Mike demanded, like whoever it was had entered a private residence.  
  
“Uh, Shane.” He sat, and Jason almost choked on his own saliva, and looked.  
  
“What the hell are you doing?” Jason asked, darkly.  
  
“I agree with Frodo, what the hell are you doing here?” Mike boomed over Jason.  
  
“I’m sorry, I’m with them.” He pointed to Jason and Lyssa, and Lyssa didn’t hesitate to give Mike the nod of approval.  
  
“Jesus, Lyss, what’s with you bringing all these fags to our table?”  
  
“Excuse me?” Shane was quick with the retort, and Jason closed his eyes and begged for mercy.  
  
“What?” Mike looked at him. “Did that offend you?”  
  
“No, I’d just like to compliment you on your amazing gaydar.” Shane replied. “In fact, I’m so impressed, I think I’m falling in love with you, oh my god, come here.” In a second, Shane was standing on the table… climbing over it, with no regard for anyone’s food or belongings. He stepped in some Mac and Cheese with the toe of his shoe and knocked someone’s milk over and it spilled on their pizza. In another second Mike had launched himself backwards from the table just in time to dodge Shane reaching out for him.  
  
Jason’s eyes buldged helplessly at the scene.  
  
Shane hopped down from the table and landed in front of Mike just before one of the supervisor’s shouted “AMARI!” Which may or may not have been Shane’s last name. It probably was.  
  
“Dude, fuck off!”  
  
“You should go by Michael, it’s such a pretty name.” Shane wasn’t touching him, but he kept advancing forward, and coming back closer every time Mike shoved him. This continued with quite the audience until the supervisor arrived next to him and took Shane by the wrist, yanking him away.  
  
It was at that moment that Jason realized Lyssa was laughing quietly next to him, or more, trying to contain her laughter.  
  
“Oh my god.” She said, giggling, when he looked at her.  
  
“Yeah.” Jason scratched behind his head. Should he apologize for delivering this plague unto their lunch table? After all, he was the one Shane had undoubtedly followed over here.  
  
“Go to the principal’s office. Now.” The supervisor, whose name Jason could not place, demanded, pointing Shane toward the doors. “We do not stand on tables!” He added, even though Shane was already going.  
  
“And you, sit down, shut up, and eat.” The supervisor said this to Mike. “I can hear everything you say from halfway across the room.”  
  
Mike scowled, but didn’t talk back. He looked like the type that would have, except he appeared to be too embarrassed to even think about it. His face was red with rage as he pulled his seat back to the table, and Jason noticed for the first time that Lance, his friend next to him, was also trying to contain a fit of giggles.  
  
Mike looked to him with death and he sucked in his lips to stop.  
  
o-o-o-o  
  
“Why did you stand up on the table?”  
  
“I was defending my species.” Shane was sitting in the principals office, reaching upward to swat a dangling cardboard cut-out of a cartoonish mummy exiting a coffin.  
  
“…Right.” The principal replied, sparing himself the details. “Don’t do that anymore.”  
  
Shane smirked, because he knew that Principal Rochelle knew that those words were useless.  
  
“So, anyway.” Shane said. “Now that I’m here, you wanna tell me why you and Tony are in cahoots?”  
  
“Excuse me?” The principal asked, not meeting his eyes.  
  
“Stop denying it and just tell me.” Shane was getting really sick of this. He’d stopped bothering  with demanding answers from Tony himself, as Tony had threatened to never speak to him again if he didn’t. But ever since he found out that Tony was somehow involved with the principal outside of school, he’d seen it as a ray of hope for discovery.  
  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Except he never did anything but blatantly deny it.  
  
“I saw him get into a car with you after school on the first day.” Shane said. “Normally I’d just suspect something very dirty and not so legal, but I know Tony. And the only thing I don’t know about him is where he lives, and that is pretty messed up considering I’ve known him for over ten years.”  
  
“You must’ve mistaken me for someone else.”  
  
Shane sneered. “I’m going to figure this out eventually.” He insisted. “I’m sick of being in the dark.”  
  
“Anthony’s business is not yours.”  
  
“It is when he’s my best fucking friend and he’s keeping something huge from me, asshole.”  
  
“Detention Thursday.” Rochelle replied.  
  
“Whatever.” Shane punched the cardboard mummy cutout hard, and walked out, slamming the door behind him.  
  
Principal Rochelle looked at the closed door warily, before reaching for his personal cell phone, and speed dialing.  
  
 _“The fuck are you calling me for?”_ A voice came through the other end.  
  
Rochelle remained calm. “There might be a problem with one of Reynolds’s friends. I was curious to know if you’d be willing to take care of it, as it is technically your mess.”  
  
 _“What? Fuck you. I don’t work for you people anymore.”_ A loud slam, and then a dial tone. Principal Rochelle sighed, folded his hands in his lap, and tilted his head up to look at the ceiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of iffy about this whole chapter... it's... I don't know, so much is going on. Hopefully not too much. In any case, thank you for reading!


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